by Aaron Oster
“Yeah, well, you’ll get used to seeing weird things while you’re out here,” Morgan replied.
“How far away are we?” she asked, shading her eyes and squinting out over the yellowish water.
“Another day before we drop Nembi,” he answered.
“Soooo, you gonna explain why you’re going back? I mean, I know why all of us are here,” she said, gesturing downward. “But shouldn’t you be going back to the Five Kingdoms once you drop us off?”
The beast swarms were growing more dangerous, especially in the North, and while Morgan had been more than happy to let others take care of them as they didn’t pose much threat to him, they could really have used his help.
“I have my own mission to complete,” Morgan replied. “Besides, none of you know Ivaldi.”
“This girl does!” Hilda said, slapping Grace heartily on the shoulder and nearly knocking her from the top of the wagon.
“I’d appreciate it if you stopped bullying her,” Morgan said as he noted Grace’s poorly concealed wince.
“Oh, it’s not bullying,” Hilda scoffed. “We’re just joking around!”
“Perhaps you are,” Morgan said. “But in case you’ve forgotten, Grace is only rank 10, and she’s fourteen years old. You’re what, rank 64, 65? There’s quite an age gap between you as well, so every time you whack her, you’re technically beating a child.”
“Hey! I am not a child!” Grace said indignantly.
“See?” Hilda said. “Grace is a tough girl. She can take care of herself and doesn’t need you babying her.”
Morgan just sighed, deciding that this simply wasn’t worth fighting over.
“So, what have you been up to up here? Scheming anything good?”
“Nothing that’s of any concern to you,” Morgan replied.
“Aww, really?” Hilda asked, leaning forward on her elbows. “Can’t you tell me even a little bit?”
“I don’t see what it is you want to know, but no, I’m not simply going to tell you what’s going on in my head,” Morgan said, fighting to keep his tone neutral.
Hilda let out a long theatrical sigh, then rolled onto her back.
“Why doesn’t he want to talk to me?” she asked, pushing her face into Grace’s leg. “Doesn’t he like me?”
Grace looked between her and Morgan, not even sure what she should be doing in a situation like this. Her face was red with embarrassment, and Morgan found that she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Lumia was nowhere to be seen– probably napping inside, or perhaps spying while Hilda and Grace weren’t around – though Morgan dearly wished she were, if only to have someone to talk to.
“How about we make a rule?” Morgan said. “If you want to sit on top of the wagon, you need to stay quiet. Otherwise, you’re liable to slip and go for a swim. Understand?”
“Fi-i-ine,” Hilda said, miming a locking motion next to her mouth, then throwing away the proverbial key.
Morgan didn’t respond to this obvious attempt to goad him into a conversation, and instead focused on the world around him. He zoned in on the wind whipping through his hair, on the smell of the ocean beneath, and on his immediate surroundings. In Faeland, his Aura Sense was pretty much useless more than a few inches from his body.
The air, rich with reiki, would blind him the moment he opened himself up to it. This meant that he was stuck navigating like everyone else – using his eyes and his innate sense of direction. Morgan saw Hilda shifting in his periphery as she turned onto her back, allowing the sun to wash over her tanned skin.
Grace, on the other hand, simply continued to clutch onto the harness, her fingers tightening every time the wagon swayed one way or the other. She was uncomfortable up here, but she had no way of getting back inside. Morgan was unable to help her and had a feeling that Hilda would do nothing to help until she was good and ready to head back inside.
Letting out a sigh, Morgan reached down, snagging the back of her shirt and hauling her off her feet. She let out a terrified squeak as her grip on the harness was broken and flailed momentarily, until Morgan’s voice finally reached her.
“Calm down, I won’t let you fall.”
Grace let out a sigh of relief as he pulled her to one side, helping her climb onto his back and getting her settled there. He’d wanted to fly without having to carry anyone this time, but it was either this or watch her guiltily as she cringed and gripped the ropes for the next few hours.
“Thanks, Morgan,” Grace said, pressing her face to his shoulder.
Morgan replied with a single grunt, though inwardly, he did feel a bit better about pulling her up. It was hard to remember that she was still so young, especially seeing how strong she was. When he was her age, he was just a scrawny weakling living out on the streets. Grace was miles ahead of where he was, already at rank 10, and there were still over seven months to her next birthday.
Grace remained on his back for the next four and a half hours before Hilda – who’d fallen asleep during that time – finally brought her back into the wagon, leaving Morgan on his own once again. Night fell and the ocean beneath them began to glow, its phosphorescent light reflecting off the bottom and sides of the wagon, and by the time the sun rose again in the morning, Faeland was within sight.
“Here’s a map of the surrounding areas that we’ve discovered so far,” Morgan said, handing Nembi the information he’d collected in his time here.
Everyone was out of the wagon, stretching their backs after the long trip. Nembi, on the other hand, would be staying here in the Wilderwood and was receiving his orders.
“Watch your back, because the beastmen patrols are frequent and filled with powerful fighters. If it comes down to it, don’t try and fight, just run.”
“Wow,” the man said dryly, taking the rolled-up parchment from him. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Aww, lighten up, sourpuss,” Hilda said, arching her back and stretching her arms above her head. “At least you get to stay on land. From what I hear, I’m going to be stuck in that box the longest.”
Nembi simply scowled at her, before turning and stalking off into the surrounding forest.
“Something tells me he doesn’t want to be here,” Bill said, following the dour man with his eyes.
“Gee, I wonder what gave that away,” Hilda said sarcastically. “Come on, you sack of bones. Back into the wagon with you! The quicker we leave, the quicker I’ll be able to get out of this coffin! At least for a few weeks.”
It was clear by the look on Bill’s face that he didn’t enjoy the nickname, though, in Hilda’s defense, he did look like a walking bag of bones.
Morgan, who hadn’t even bothered to undo the harness, simply waited for the rest of them to pile in before he took off once again. He was far more careful now, keeping lower to the tops of the trees and flying far slower. It would be several days of travel before their next stop, and he wanted to assure that they would not be discovered until then. Though, with Nembi obviously on the side of Faeland, their presence here would only remain a secret until he ran into the beastmen.
That wouldn’t be a problem, at least not for several days. Morgan had purposely given him the wrong map, one which would lead him in circles instead of giving him any sort of direct path. By the time Nembi figured it out, Morgan and the others would be long gone.
14
“How exactly are we all going to get over that?” Hilda asked, staring up at the massive wall separating the Wilderwood from the Soaring Peaks.
Morgan didn’t reply, instead, answering by pulling a massive slab of stone from the wall and extending it out under the wagon. The stone around the wheels morphed so that it wouldn’t slide back by accident, and a moment later, the stone began to rise, gliding smoothly along the wall.
“Not bad,” Hilda admitted grudgingly. “But this isn’t exactly fast.”
“I can either do it this way or climb the wall freehanded and have the wagon dangling down behind me,” Morgan replied. “Take
your choice.”
“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Hilda said, holding up both hands.
“To be fair, that was exactly what you were doing.”
“Shut up, Bill!” Hilda snapped as the man poked his head from the carriage door.
“You know, you’re not very nice,” Bill said. “It’s no wonder you’re still single while the rest of us are all…ahh!”
Bill recoiled, whipping his head back just in time to avoid a piece of stone hurled by the woman in question. The most impressive part about that wasn’t the actual throw, which ended up missing and gouging the wood of the carriage. No, what was impressive, was that Hilda had ripped the piece of stone from the block they were on, scooping it out as easily as one might mold clay.
“I’ll thank you to not go pulling pieces off the only thing keeping you all from plummeting to your deaths,” Morgan said, filling in the indentation and ignoring what Bill had just said.
Hilda glared at him for several moments, as though daring him to say something else, but Morgan was too busy concentrating on keeping the stone moving upward to give a crap. Besides, it was none of his business. He barely knew Hilda, aside from a few passing encounters and their fights – both at the academy and when he’d been recruiting help to battle the Pinnacle King.
“It’s not true, you know,” Hilda said after a few more moments of silence. “I’m not alone because…”
“Look, I really don’t care,” Morgan said with a sigh. “I’m busy concentrating getting us over the wall, so unless you’ve got the power to move stone, please just stay quiet.”
Truthfully, Morgan could easily concentrate on moving them and carrying a conversation. He just didn’t want to. He had enough on his own plate right now without getting mixed up in other people’s personal problems.
“Wow, that’s shockingly rude of you,” Hilda said, her tone becoming a bit frosty. “If you dislike my company so much, I’ll just go hang out with people who aren’t assholes!”
Hilda then stomped over to the wagon, nearly tore the door off its hinges and proceeded to slam the door hard enough to splinter the wood along the edges of the frame. Morgan knew he’d been rude, but sometimes, the only way to get rid of people was to act the way he just had. He might have to offer an apology later, but right now, he didn’t regret what he’d said, as it had gotten him the result he’d wanted.
The air began to grow thin as they neared the top of the wall, and while he might have been nervous for Grace before, she was now a rank 10 supermage. Even though the air would still cause her to become lightheaded, her constitution was sturdy enough to withstand the lack of oxygen, if only for a few minutes. A few minutes was all they’d need, as Morgan was planning on taking the express route down.
His body lifted off the ground, pulling the wagon along the top of the wall as he sped towards the far side. He then hurled them all over the other side without so much as a single warning.
There was a scream from inside the wagon as they plunged out of the air. Morgan could feel the thrill of weightlessness as they began to freefall to the ground below. No one came out of the wagon, though the door was half-shoved open by Hilda, who began yelling something, which was immediately snatched away by the wind.
Morgan just shrugged, then pointed downward and motioned for her to get back inside. Hilda glared at him once again, but listened after a few moments. The freefall didn’t last for much longer. The details of the ground below soon came into sharper focus, growing closer by the second and reminding Morgan that not only would he be pulling himself out of the dive, but the entire wagon as well.
“This won’t be pleasant,” he muttered, feeling control come back a moment later.
The wagon jerked, the harness creaking ominously as he came to a sudden halt, pulling upward to stop the wagon from smashing into the ground at terminal velocity. While he knew that most people inside the wagon would be fine, maybe with some bruising, Grace would not survive. Morgan strained against the weight of the wagon and its passengers as he came within a hundred feet of the ground.
They’d slowed considerably but were still coming in pretty quickly. The wagon slammed into the ground, its wheels shattering to splinters and flying in all directions. The box itself remained intact, though a few more cracks appeared on the wood.
“What the hell was that?” Hilda yelled, kicking the door off its hinges and sending it flying.
“You’re all still alive, aren’t you?” Morgan replied, eyeing the remains of the doorframe.
“But you could have killed us!”
“Please, not so loud,” Marson complained, stumbling from the wagon and looking a bit green.
“Great, you’re already out here,” Morgan replied. “Got everything you need for your mission?”
Marson replied by leaning over and emptying the contents of his stomach on the ground. Several seconds of retching later, he straightened, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Yeah, I think I’ve got everything.”
“Good. We’re in the Soaring Peaks now, and Ivaldi’s forge is several miles that way,” he said, pointing with an outstretched arm. “Try and avoid the cities if you can, but it would be nice if you got close enough to get an approximate size.”
“Hey! Stop ignoring me!” Hilda snapped as Marson nodded.
“What do you want me to say?” Morgan asked, feeling like his patience was being severely tested.
“How about an apology?” she retorted. “That would be nice!”
“Not gonna happen,” Morgan said. “I got us down the quickest way I knew how, and all without alerting anyone to our presence. If you keep yelling like that, you will attract the sort of attention we don’t want.”
“I’ll attract all the attention I damn well please!” Hilda exclaimed.
Morgan let out a sigh, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and wondering why he always seemed to get stuck with women who had bad tempers.
“You know what?” he said, looking up and meeting her eyes. “I think I’ll leave you here to cool off for a while. I’m sick and tired of playing horse anyway, and I can reach Ivaldi’s forge without the wagon just as easily as with. Grace!” he said, raising his voice.
Grace came stumbling out of the wagon a moment later. While a bit pale, she didn’t look nearly as bad as Marson, and, judging by the groaning coming from inside the wagon, not nearly as bad as Bill either.
“Hey! You can’t just fly off and leave us here!” Hilda said as Morgan took a firm grip under Grace’s arm and hoisted her around and onto his back.
He would have to apologize for manhandling her that way once they were in the air, but he needed to get away from Hilda as quickly as he could, and the longer it took for her to get on his back, the more time he’d have to wait and listen to the angry woman. Thankfully, Grace didn’t offer any protest, wrapping her arms and legs around him as she settled behind him. Before Hilda could say anything else, he took off, Lumia gliding by his side as Hilda yelled obscenities after them.
“Why is she so mad at you?” Grace asked, peering back over his shoulder at the quickly retreating form of the angry woman.
“You’ll understand when you’re a bit older,” Lumia replied in his place, landing on Grace’s shoulder as she did.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, changing the subject.
While he didn’t particularly care how the others were, he was concerned about her.
“I’m a little dizzy, but otherwise fine,” Grace replied.
“Were you afraid when the wagon dropped?”
“No,” she immediately replied. “I knew you wouldn’t let us die, so I had nothing to be afraid of.”
Though Grace couldn’t see it, Morgan smiled at that. He found himself touched that Grace would trust him to such an extent. It gave him a warm feeling inside and made him feel oddly good about himself. He didn’t know why and would later have to examine the specific emotion, but for now, he simply basked in the feeling.
&nbs
p; Ivaldi’s forge soon became visible, and Morgan drifted from the sky to land carefully on the ground below. He didn’t want to accidentally set off the dwarf’s midair traps. While he would be fine, Grace could be seriously injured.
“I’m going to keep carrying you, if you don’t mind,” Morgan said as he stepped forward. “It’ll keep you off the ground, and I’ll be able to block you from feeling any of the bigger traps.”
“Um…yeah, that’s…fine,” Grace said, her voice sounding oddly high-pitched.
Morgan shrugged to himself at that, chalking it up to her being nervous about the dwarf’s tendencies to litter his land with mines, pitfalls and all manner of nasty contraptions. Worse, Morgan was expecting there to be more this time, due to the fact that Ivaldi had complained endlessly about how easily he’d gotten through. He had a feeling that the dwarf smith would have stepped up the lethality and placing of the traps.
Morgan was not disappointed, as after taking exactly two steps, a bear-trap snapped up over his boot, tearing into the material and glowing red hot as it tried to rip his foot clean off.
“Oh, you are a sick bastard, aren’t you?” Morgan muttered as he yanked his foot from the trap.
The bear-trap would catch anyone walking, ripping into their flesh and snapping the bone. Then, the heat would burn all the way through, amputating the leg and cauterizing it at the same time, assuring a massive amount of pain, and keeping the victim alive. It was a truly twisted trap and one that Morgan was glad had done nothing more than ruin a boot. He walked exactly two more feet before a sphere of acid detonated under his bare foot, coating and burning at his skin. Once again, Morgan was more than tough enough to withstand the explosion, though his pant leg vanished up to the knee.
He gritted his teeth, wondering if Ivaldi’s big plan here was to destroy all his clothes and make him turn back in embarrassment. Another step set off a spring-loaded trap, one that hurled a half-dozen metallic spikes at chest-level. Having control over alloys like this with his Earthen Shift, Morgan was able to turn them aside.
